How can one measure one’s growth?
The question was staring at him like beaming headlights straight on his face. What was growth? How could one possibly know he or she was growing? How could one grow? One could grow by performing well consistently over a period of time. This brought up the question of adopting good habits deliberately and enforcing them bordering on a degree of obsession.
His brain was content. For it, life’s purpose had been achieved and he had already been victorious, for he was surviving. But he had to make his brain understand that more was possible, that it shouldn’t be content with merely surviving but live the life he envisioned, a vision that was a product of mass media that gave an insight into the life of the super-productive, people whose mindsets let them shape their destinies according to their wishes.
Currently, he was all over the place.
He did not know where he was going. He did not know where he stood in terms of skills and knowledge. He did not know what he wanted to do. He felt he didn’t know anything, even though he did know quite a bit. There were moments in his life when he felt helpless, as if nothing was going right, from his relationships to his body image. He felt distracted all the time, consuming tidbits of information from every source, but lacking the power to assimilate everything together to create a world view, a structure with which to direct his life’s milestones.
He wanted to do everything.
He wanted to do everything. He wanted to shape his body. He wanted to read multiple books in a week. He wanted to write insightful content. He wanted to have the most nutritious food. He wanted to network with intellectuals. He wanted to attend parties. He wanted to have sex. He wanted to have meaningful conversations. He wanted to play a music instrument. He wanted to meditate. He wanted to date amazing women. He wanted to wear the best clothes. He wanted to look great. He wanted to do..everything.
Why was committing to accomplish his choicest desires so difficult?
He was sick of himself. He wasn’t convinced by literature that proclaimed nobody was perfect. He wanted to be prefect. He would not compromise any of his desires. He wanted to do everything. He wanted to occasionally get high as well. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to do everything. Maybe he needed to space out all his desires by scheduling all of his desires over a period of a few months.
It was time. He had to do something. The last thing he wanted was regret.
He would do everything.